Bedeviling the Chipper

By: Maygin

Summary: "Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate." – Germaine Greer

Disclaimer: I am not making any money off of nor do I own anything supernatural… other than my roommate.

Authors Dumb Note: I think I've captured a Supernatural bug or something… anytime I see a little brother and a big brother now I just can't help but think of Dean and Sam. I was watching Goonies the other night and couldn't help but see Bren as Dean and Mikey as Sam. Got a good laugh out of it. Has anyone else had this problem?

CHAPTER 5

"This is not a good idea." Dean stated, at the back, emergency exit of the hospital, his eyes roaming the buildings around them.

Cal stopped knocking and turned to his impatient counterpart with a sigh. "Look," he said as if he couldn't believe he was explaining this again, "Jamie is a very good friend of mine. I trust him like I trust my eyeliner."

"Well that's great Cal. I feel much better about this."

Cal ignored him and went back to knocking loudly on the door. It swung open suddenly and there standing before them was a six foot five, bald, two-hundred and eighty-five muscle-building black man with a scowl on his face.

"Holy hell," slipped inadvertently from the eldest Winchester's lips with awe. The man in front of them could've rivaled Eddie the ex-ex delivery boy… only much cleaner looking, but still an intimidating Greek God of a man.

The Gladiator glared first at Dean and then at Cal who was smiling brightly. Suddenly the man's demeanor went from 'kill em all and let… well- just kill em all' to 'welcome to my sleep over girl talk party'. A huge, bright-white smile transformed on the man's face and he batted his eyes, his hips swinging to the side, and his arms coming in close to his chest, hands delicately bent downwards.

"Calantha!" his surprisingly feminine voice rang out loudly.

"Jamie darling!"

And then they were hugging, butts out. Dean's eyes were huge… this was definitely not what he had expected of Jamie.

"Jamie, this is Dean." Cal introduced.

Dean braced himself, frightened the mountain of a… man was going to try and hug him too. Instead Jamie held his large hand out delicately and smirked, giving Dean a once-over with his eyes and obviously pleased.

"Pleased to meet you honey."

Dean could only nod in return. His vocal cords had yet to detach from the back of his throat after almost swallowing them in shock. Cal rolled his eyes at him.

"Don't bother, he's straight." Cal advised his friend.

"Now that is a true shame. Well come on in." Jamie hurriedly ushered the two men inside and started cat-walking his large frame down the long, empty hallway. "I'm sorry to hear about your brother sweetie, really I am. Such a young little guy he is. I've said a prayer for him every morning before my shift."

Dean tried not to let the oddity of this entire encounter show on his face. He shoved his hands into his pockets and followed behind the two men… more than a little uncomfortable. "Thanks, um…" he licked his lips, "Sam would appreciate that."

Jamie pursed his lips unhappily, shaking his head, "It just ain't right what those government and news-folk are doing. The media I can keep out, but them suits… they're the real trouble-makers." Cal hummed his agreement, also pursing his lips with distaste.

"Cops?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Oh no; they were there at first, but then the FBI showed up and took over the investigations. They still monitor the hospital procedures and show up once in a while, but overall we're mostly just fighting off the media." Jamie's face went cold and suddenly his voice was a low baritone. "Arrogant sons-of-bitches."

Dean made a face… man these guys were hard to figure out. Guys… girls… whatever they wanted to consider themselves. He looked down at the bleached tiles as they passed beneath his feet, his thoughts drowning out the voices of his companions. He wasn't used to this… following others leads. He wasn't used to not feeling confident in the outcome. He wasn't used to being around so much femininity without… well… certain feminine features involved.

He wasn't used to being alone; though his persona belied otherwise, he truly didn't know if he could do what the Winchester's did for a living on his own. Hell, the first 3 hours after he was supposedly on his own he'd walked around like a zombie, wondering, once again, how he was going to survive on his own. Granted, he'd been in a right awful state of grieving and helplessness… but… yeah, there was no way in hell he could do this on his own. There was even a very, VERY minuscule part of him that was grateful for his currently very gay company… sort of.

A small smirk pulled at his lips as a memory suddenly popped into his head. A memory of a 15 year old Sammy who had just started his freshman year; and a very unfortunate encounter with one, Laura Winters. He could laugh at it now; he had laughed at it then too, until… well, he'd stopped laughing at that point. Dean suddenly wondered how much Sam actually looked back on the good times; times when they weren't hunting, or thinking about the victims they couldn't save. Lately, it seemed his little brother was focusing more and more on what they'd lost rather than some of the good things they'd gained in life.

Dean's mind started filling with memories of better times; times when he and his father and brother had laughed together… actually laughed, not just the sarcastic snort here and there, but good, heart-felt laughter; times when he and his brother had stayed up past bedtime to make fun of the guests on Jerry Springer; times when they'd gone grocery shopping together and dueled to see who could get the most women to smile at them; the endless word games and other mindless time spent driving cross country. The memories were there... so why was it so hard for Dean to talk about them? It wasn't like visiting old times was initiating the 'chick-flick' moments he hated. So what was it? His stomach twisted sickly as the abrupt fear at the possibility that he'd never get the chance to experience new good memories with his little bro suddenly occurred to him.

"Dean!"

The voice broke through Dean's wall of thought like a wrecking ball. His head shot up looking at the two men who were looking at him warily. "What?"

"Honey you don't look so good." Jamie pursed his lips with worry, a large, delicate hand pointed in his direction. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

It was then that Dean noticed they had stopped in front of a door. He looked around them and realized they were in a deserted wing of the hospital now; it was quiet. His eyes went slowly back to the door; and suddenly he was finding it a little difficult to breath. He was pretty sure he had nodded in response because Cal and Jamie were suddenly pushing the door open for him. He walked numbly through, leaving his two companions behind the door they closed quietly after him. He swallowed the lump and took another step forward, stepping out of the small corridor between the door and the actual room.

"Oh god." He stumbled back into the corridor suddenly sick, fist to mouth as he caught a glimpse of the latest news story lying on the only bed in the room… surrounded by machines, wires and IV's attached all over; a tube shoved down the patients throat, forcing oxygen into the unresponsive body; eye-lids taped shut. Dean fought down the panic and despair. This wasn't him… he'd never let this kind of stuff get to him before, he sure as hell wasn't going to let it effect him now. Not now. He forced a deep, resolved breath in and turned back to the open room.

His steps were silent; as if the mere sound of them could cause the machinery keeping his brother alive to suddenly stop.

And then he was there; standing at the side of the bed; white-knuckled fingers gripping the metal railings. His head had automatically shifted down, staring at the white sheets; but slowly, he forced his eyes to the left… to the face of one he just couldn't bear to lose.

His eyes burned and the muscles in his jaw shifted in protest of the crushing pressure he was administering, trying to hold it in. His stoic expression didn't change as he just stared. "Hey Sammy." His voice was quietly horse; strained. He swallowed a few more times, trying not to hear the sound of the droning life support. He released one hand from the cold railing, and rested hesitant fingers on the lifeless arm lying atop the crisp sheets. "You're not going to believe the day I've had." His eyes roamed the bleached walls. "I blame you entirely for sticking me with those two fairies outside." He gave a short laugh, but found himself quickly swallowing down another lump. And then it came… a single tear. It trailed down his cheek; this undiscovered land, calling its friends along. "God look at you." Came a choked whisper.

Dean's face suddenly twisted and he knew he couldn't stop it anymore. He slumped down into the seat sitting close by and buried his head into the limp arm beneath him. It poured from him, and he couldn't stop it. He didn't want to anymore; he'd stepped beyond his emotional line and now wanted nothing more than to expel that horrible hurricane flooding his inner cavities. And so he wept.

TBC…